Ain't it fun
by SisiDraig
Summary: And it’s done! A life’s worth of planning, a decade’s worth of pretending, a days worth of destruction. Vince's true identity has been revealed and now he and Howard are on the run from dangerous criminals and a few angry pensioners. No longer a one shot
1. Ain't it fun

**Okay, so I got bored and, as usual, I started to write a story and, as usual, Vince and Howard are in it (though, granted, they're not exactly acting like typical Vince and Howard). It **_**is**_** a one shot… but I may be tempted to continue with it depends if it calls to me or not. Though, I may not to continue it because I find it hard to write in the present tense so I wasn't really sure whether to post it or not. Especially as people are probably fed up of me by now and I can't blame them. I'm fed up of me - I will stop bombarding you with stories soon. I promise.**

**However, for now, let's just do the disclaimers:**

**I pretty much own everything (including you, the reader) except all things Boosh. They're owned by two blokes from London and Leeds… just try and guess who they are.**

**Also, 'Ain't it fun' is a song - not sure who by but GnR covered it :D**

* * *

And it's done! A life's worth of planning, a decade's worth of pretending, a days worth of destruction. Now I have everything I need… everything I deserve. I took Naboo's spell books first. I released Nanatoo but this time, this time I was clever, this time I learnt how to control her. It is Nanagedon, but it's _my_ Nanagadon, the Nana's do as I please. They destroy who I want to destroy, they destroy those who almost destroyed me.

Bob Fossil: needle through the neck.  
Naboo: bus pass through the forehead  
Bollo: they just knitted his fur into a cardigan and he's gone into hiding with shame.  
Saboo: tea cup through the stomach  
Dennis, Kirk: killed by a zimmerframe  
Tony Harrison: dunked like a tea bag into scolding tea.  
And  
Howard: that was more difficult than I had anticipated.

Don't tell the other guys in the gang but I haven't done it yet… but I will, don't go thinking I'm soft, I'm not! And don't go thinking I like him - he's an idiot, got it? But I couldn't let the Nana's have him, it didn't seem right.

I can hear him now, he's kicking and squirming in the boot.

"Help." he shouts "Vince, Vince. What's going out?"

"Shut up or I'll shoot you!" I shout back, but he doesn't believe me. He's naïve.

"You don't have a gun Vince."

"How many times?! My name is not Vince! That's fake! Like everything else. Like our friendship. Like me! You don't think people are actually like Vince, do you? Oh no, he was cleverly conjured up by me and the guys. The prefect man, innocent, naïve, a bit stupid, very likable. I am nothing like Vince. I don't even have long hair, that was fake too. And my friends aren't fashion-obsessed electro freaks, they're clever, hard faced, cold-hearted gangsters… and they're coming. You better keep quiet now. If they find you they'll kill you. In fact, they'll probably kill both of us."

I can hear them outside the van. Ricky (the brains) , Jonny (the American computer geek), Edward (the upper-class English money) and Roger (the back street thug) all talking. Where do I fit in? I'm the field man, the face. The one people see, the one people like, the one that no one believes is part of a gang like ours. A gang that is not only after money but is also after world domination.

"It done?" asks Ricky sticking his head through my window. I nod, silently, nervously.

"Excellent." he sneers "And you're flat mates?"

"Dead." I lie.

"Even better. You know what Kid? I thought you'd bottle it. Thought I'd have to send Ricky round to finish the job. You did good."

"Don't tell him that." growls Roger "He'll get big headed. And god knows he annoying enough without it."

"Get lost!" I scowl. "Camden people love me."

"No. They loved Vince. You Kid, are no Vince. You're a washed up orphan with a messed up mind and no friends." Roger says. I hate him. Although, I think he's jealous of me. He wants to be Ricky's favourite and everyone knows that Ricky's favourite is me.

"Hey guys." Jonny's geeky face pears into the car. "Edward thinks he can hear something in the boot. Just pop the trunk so I can show him he's deluded. I tell you what the sooner we can pop a cap in his head the better. I know he's rich but, flaming hell, can't we just take his money and kill him."

"He ain't so bad." I say, but I immediately regret it. We all pick on Edward, it's what we do. We're not supposed to show him sympathy, not even a bit.

"Steady on Kid." Ricky thumps me hard on the shoulder "you're beginning to sound like Vince."

"Screw you." I snap, spitting at his shoes.

"And you're back." Ricky says, a small grin pulls at the corners of his mouth. I told you he likes me. He'd have killed anyone else for doing that. Instead, he just wipes the saliva on Roger's trouser leg, and says

"Open the boot then Kid. Shut Edward up."

I panic.

"I… c-can't" I falter, I stutter. I don't know what to do but I can't let them see Howard.

"Why not?" asks Roger, he cocks his eyebrow. Oh no! He can smell fear.

"It's… broken."

"No problem." Roger's sneering now. He's happy and he's only happy when he's inflicting pain on others. "I can just force it open, I'll get the crowbar from the van."

"No!" I scream. I'm stupid.

"No?" Ricky asks. "What's got into you Kid?"

"Nothing." But I'm nervous, I'm going red. They know something's up. They're too sharp for my stupid lies.

"He's lying, the trunk ain't broken." Roger smirks, "Open it." He's pointing a gun at my head so I have no choice. I push the button, the boot clicks open and Edward opens it. He screams.

Roger, Jonny and Edward run to the boot. So I get out of the car and run too. They've seen him. Howard. I try to act as shocked as them but they can see right through me. They turn away from me and talk in hushed voices, as though I can't hear them.

"He lied to us Rick." Roger snarls, he glares at me over his shoulder.

"I know, but it doesn't matter. It's not too bad. We'll just kill this one now and everything will be fine." He's looking at Howard as though he's never seen anything more inconvienient. Howard looks at me, his eyes are wide and terrified. He doesn't know what's happening, but I don't care… I don't! All those times we spent together were just lies, he's not my friend. I don't like him… I don't!

"You can't do this!" Roger is furious. "We should shoot both of 'em." He walks towards me and pulls a gun from his jacket pocket. He points it at my head and snarls "We can't trust him anymore."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Roge!" I told you he likes me, he can't help himself, even when he hates me - he still prefers me to the others. "I will have you killed. Anyway, the Kids got control of Nanagedon, if we lose him we lose everything. We'll deal with him later." He glowers at me. "But you can shoot this idiot." He points at Howard. Roger grins. This is the moment he's been waiting for. He hasn't killed anyone in a while and he had always wanted to kill the flatmates but the Nana's got their first. _I_ got there first and he hates me for it.

Roger moves the gun from my direction and points it at Howard. Howard's wriggling and squirming with fear. He's mumbling through his gag. His eyes are wide, they are shining. His face is shining too, little beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. His hair is plastered to his forehead. He's so scared… so, so scared. And Roger's grinning. He's delighted. He loves doing this. He's taking his time, he's toying with Howard… slowly cocking the gun. His finger's on the trigger.

**BANG!**

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**Sisi...xx**


	2. When you're always on the run

So, now I'm on the run again. Why am I so stupid? I should have just let Roger shoot him. Why did I get involved? We drove for miles and miles. He just stared at me for ages, cowering slightly, pressed right up against the far side of the car. He was shaking slightly and I could tell he was terrified, even though I'd told him he was safe. I knew he didn't trust me and he was probably right to. It's not like I had a plan, I guess we're just winging it from now on.

After a few hours of silence he spoke up "V-vince?"

"I'm not Vince." I snapped "I haven't got a name. The guys just call me… _called_ me Kid."

"W-what's going on?"

"I just saved your life. Can't you just be grateful and shut up!"

He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something but, thankfully, he thought better of it. Instead, he went back to looking out of the window at the quickly passing country side but after a while he spoke up again.

"V-vince."

"I'm not Vince!"

"S-sorry. Why didn't you let Roger kill me?"

"I don't know." I snarled glancing at him, "But, I'm starting to regret it."

He shuts up for a while… but not for long enough. God, he's persistent.

"B-but you killed Naboo and Bollo and…"

"Howard! Shut up!" I warned, but he couldn't take a hint.

"And you could have killed me. You were going too… but you stopped and then you stuck me in a boot."

"Shut up."

"And then Roger's points a gun at my head and you shot him."

"Which is why we're running." I remind him angrily "Now, stop talking!"

"Why?"

"Why, what?" I sigh.

"Why did you kill everyone, Vince? It's so unlike you."

"I'm not Vince!" I completely lost it. "And it's not unlike me, think about it Howard… d'you think the first time I released Nanatoo was an accident? I'm not that stupid. I just did the spell a bit wrong. And then the time that I ate your record; that wasn't an accident either. Ricky thought that I could use the spirit of jazz to destroy London but that backfired too. They thought I'd died, which is why they sent Lance Dior. He was going to take over from me. And leaving the rubbish bags in the backyard? I practically invited the fox to come in. Problem was, I passed out so I couldn't control him either. I messed up a few times but Ricky believed in me and I managed it in the end, didn't I?"

"And now you control the Nana's?"

"Yeah." I said "I control everything. Now, seriously Howard. Shut up!"

"But I…"

I snapped. I slammed my foot on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt. I whipped the gun from my pocket and pointed it at his head. He trembled and his eyes grew wide. I cocked the gun and snarled. "One more word and I'll do it. Got it? Just one more word."

He nodded silently and he hasn't said anything since. It was only about half an hour after that, that I found this place. It'll do as a hideout for a few days. Howard hates it here, but he's never slummed it before. He's never lived on the streets and this place _is_ horrible. It stinks. It's got weird stains over the walls and floor and the man at the front desk looks like he doesn't know what a shower is. He sat there trying to claim that this tiny Motel was three star because it has a 'pool', which is more like a puddle with a dead rat floating about in it. That made me chuckle especially as it freaked Howard out even more.

I think we'll be safe here for a while and the horrible smelly man doesn't seem to know about the horror that's unfolding in London, which is nice. It make's it easier for Howard to pretend we're still Howard and Vince (maybe going on holiday somewhere), rather than Howard and the Kid; convicts on the run.

He's sat on the bed reading a newspaper. He still looks nervous, he keeps glancing over here and opening his mouth as though about to say something and then thinking better of it. If anything that's annoying me more than his incessant questions. And, I suppose, if he's talking to me it'll take my mind off my predicament. I've got three notorious criminal's after me, an entire mob of Nana's waiting for my next command and likely to revolt and on top of that I've got Howard weighing me down like a ton of bricks.

Howard's looking at me again and I snap.

"What?!"

"I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but you were going to."

"Well, I just was going to ask if there's a plan."

"Yeah, don't get caught."

"But you have controls of the Nana's… can't you just set them on the others?"

"And how exactly am I supposed to contact them? E-mail? No I'll ring them. It'll be quicker." I scorn.

"I was only asking." He looks hurt. I'm not sure if he hates me or not. I don't care if he does. I don't care about him. I think I'm going to leave him somewhere soon and let him fend for himself but not yet. God knows what would happen to him if I left him here. He's still staring at me.

"What?!" I yell. I'm losing it and he can tell, so he looks at the floor.

"I'm sorry." he mumbles and goes back to reading the paper but I can tell he's not really reading. He's just staring at the pages, trying desperately to take his mind of everything and I guess, if I'm honest, I feel a little sorry for him.

"You hungry?" I ask.

"Ummm," he looks confused "Yeah."

"Okay, I think there's a fast food place down the road. I know you don't like it but it's the best I can offer."

"That'll be fine."

--

We get back from food and Howard looks a lot happier. We walk up the steps talking, almost as though I'm Vince again, though this time I'm telling him the truth.

"So you weren't raised in the forest by Brian Ferry?"

"Of course not! Honestly Howard, have you ever heard anything _more_ fake. I couldn't believe you bought that when I said it. Seriously. Brian Ferry, not only in a forest but raising foster kids."

He goes red and murmurs "So where were you brought up?"

"On the street, by Ricky. He found me when I was about three and he's been looking out for me ever since. I think he see's me like a younger brother. I guess that was his biggest mistake, probably why he didn't kill us when we escaped from the carpark. They say in this game you should never form a bond with anyone because other people let you down but I guess sometimes that's harder than you think."

Howard coughs and, suddenly, I realise I'm staring at him, almost fondly. I immediately snap out of it and slam the key into the lock, opening the door.

The room is trashed. The small beds are ripped to pieces, draws are emptied, furniture is smashed. There are a few random bullet holes in the floor and ceiling. Scrawled across the far wall in dripping red paint are the words "We're coming for you Kid"

Howard stands frozen to the spot and stares, transfixed, at the red letters. "What do we do now?" he squeaks.

"We keep running."

* * *

**Quick question!  
"**I knew he didn't trust me and he was probably right to.**" Would you put the 'to' on the end of that sentence?? because I know sometimes we Welsh stick 'to' on the end of sentences when most people don't. Hence we say 'where you going to?' which most English people find very odd. Anyway, wasn't sure whether or not i needed it there... answers on a postcard please (or a review or personal message - whatever's easier).  
Thank you!!  
Sisi...xx**


	3. When you feel like you gotta use a gun

**Okay, so I've sort of shamelessly plugged one of my favourite and virtually unknown bands in this chapter. The song doesn't really fit in but it's the kinda song you **_**have**_** to play loud! Lol. Also, I figured if 3 people read this, it's probably doubled the amount of people on this country who've heard of them. Woo!  
****Just so you know: I don't own them.**

**This is sort of the first part of the chapter, but (if i'm honest) I'm watching MOTD and I can't be bothered to proof read the second part but i don't think this is terrible place to stop. I will try and put it up tomorrow! lol.  
Anyway, on with the story…**

* * *

We've been running for days and I'm sick and tired of always looking over my shoulder. Howard's asleep. He's relaxed a little more now that I've stopped pointing my gun in his face. He even drove for a bit yesterday. He keeps saying that it's too weird to see me driving. Of all the things he didn't know about me (the guns, the gang, the murders) it's the fact I can drive he finds most weird. I think he likes to pretend the rest of it isn't real, though he's seen it first hand now and he saw it again last night.

We were in our room in a tacky, rundown youth hostel. It took me a lot of effort to persuade the woman behind the desk that we weren't a couple. The woman seemed to think that Howard was married and that I was his bit on the side.

"You can stay here one night." she muttered, before looking disapprovingly at Howard and adding "And you wanna hope your wife doesn't find out. €45, please." Howard went bright red and I just laughed. I flirted with her for a bit until she agreed to give us the room for free if I would sleep with her that night, instead of Howard. Now _that_ is what I call a result.

Howard tried to ignore us, he pretended to be asleep but I could tell he wasn't. He kept edging further and further away until he was pressed right up against the far wall. He couldn't look at me the next morning without turning red and looking away again. He get's embarrassed so easily. Or, maybe, it was something to do with the fact I shot a pizza delivery guy because I thought he looked like Ricky.

"I thought he was trying to kill you." I pointed out, as he recoiled his hand immediately when we both reached for a piece of toast.

"Yes, but he wasn't." he spat back.

"Don't get smart with me, unless you wanna go the same way?"

He looked a little frightened and shook his head silently.

"Right." I continued. "I thought he'd kicked the door open. I didn't realise that you'd let him in, did I?"

"Probably because that slag was screaming so much." Howard mumbled, almost resentfully. Was he jealous?

"Did you want to bang her? Is this what all this childish sulking is about?"

"No!" he practically screamed, turning a vibrant shade of red. I laughed, I couldn't help it. Same old Howard, so embarrassed by any suggestion of sex.

"So, what is all this about?"

"You shot her! And you shot the pizza guy."

"Keep your voice down." I snarled, painfully aware that the other dinners in the breakfast room were beginning to look over.

"You shot the pizza guy" he hissed again, "and to shoot him, the bullet had to go past my head."

"So?"

"So! You shot at me."

"No, if I'd shot at you, you'd be dead. I shot _past_ you. Now, hurry up and eat your breakfast. We need to get moving before someone finds the bodies."

"Where are we going?"

"London."

"Are you mad?"

"Yup, mad and impatient. Hurry up Granddad."

Howard gulped down his remaining cornflakes and followed me out of the small breakfast room. Within thirty minutes we were in the van heading towards London.

"Are you mad?" Howard had repeated over and over again. Sounding more and more frantic, the closer we got to London.

"Right! Either; go to sleep, pretend to go to sleep or I put you to sleep forever. Choose one."

Howard immediately turned away from me, his eyes closed pretending to be asleep.

"Good choice." I said.

After about thirty minutes, his breathing became heavy and he began to snore lightly, which told me that he'd finally dropped off. I got a little bored, when he fell asleep and after a while I began to wish he'd wake up. Then I just became irritated with the silence, which was only broken every now again by increasingly irritating gentle snores. So, I broke out one of my favourite CD 'Passion for Power' by Hell n' Diesel, a rock band I got into when Roger and I were on a job in Stockholm a few years ago, none of that electro crap that _Vince_ was in to. I turned up the volume as loud as it would go and pushed play. The guitar's exploded from the speakers and Howard jumped a mile, clutching his chest and panting heavily. I laughed, I'm cruel. He shot me a look to kill, which only served to make me laugh harder.

"Morning!" I bellowed as singer began to scream the lyrics.

_We are so beautiful  
__In the eyes of the common man  
__Just like we always were  
__You are amazed by our looks  
__We live a life you don__'__t understand  
__Just like you never did_

_You know  
__I will always be a freak to you  
__Even though  
__I__'__m the one in your dreams  
__And I__'__m coming straight at you_

"Argh!" Howard screamed and hit the off button.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled, "It was just about to get good!"

"I can't listen to that rubbish anymore!" Howard was bright red, his eyes were a little bloodshot from a series of terrible nights sleep and the vein in his neck was bulging dangerously. He looked worn out and I felt bad, but he had just stopped my song just before the chorus, so I calmly reached forward and pushed play. The song screeched through the small speakers.

_You got sex and we got rock and roll  
__we met a man and sold our souls _

Howard glared at me. He looked furious.

_Yeah we all got our crosses to bear  
__And it gets harder and harder and harder_

He was turning redder and redder. Pressing his hands hard onto his ears.

_We drink to get our kicks and you  
__You strut yourself and that__'__s cool too_

The vein was bulging more than I thought possible. It looked like it was about to break out through his skin. His eyes were popping out with anger.

_Yeah we all got our crosses to bear  
__And it gets harder and harder and harder_

And suddenly, he snapped! He yanked my gun from the glove box and pointed it at me. He was shaking furiously, he was out of control and his eyes were wild. He almost looked possessed. I reached slowly to turn the radio off and pulled over to the side of the road said calmly.

"What are you going to do with that Howard?" I said it calmly, but inside I was terrified. I didn't think Howard would shoot me, but I wasn't sure. Who knows what someone is capable of when they're pushed to the edge?

"I'm in charge now, got it?"

"Okay." I smirked, "Whatever you say."

"What are you smiling for?!" he screamed, he was so confused, not only by what I was doing, but by what he was doing too.

"Well, you're not actually going to shoot me. You couldn't if you wanted to."

"I could." he insisted, but I saw the flash of doubt in his eyes and it was all I needed to tell me I was right.

"You couldn't, you wanna know why? Because deep down, you're a nice person. Unfortunately some people are born like that."

"I could if I wanted to."

"Okay then," I smiled, hoping I looked smug. "Do it. Shoot me." I leant toward him. "Look, I'll make it easy for you." I cocked the gun for him. "All you have to do is pull the trigger, end it all." I moved forward so my lips were pressed against the barrel of the gun. "Return to London, run away? It's up to you. No more following me, no more of this running away that you hate so much. Just pull the trigger." With that, I took the barrel in my mouth and fixed my eyes on his. The gun shook in my mouth as the man holding it trembled, tears rolling down his cheeks. He was broken. I'd broken him. He let go of the gun so that it hung limply between my teeth.

"Get rid of it." he whispered, wiping at his away tears with his sleeve. "Please."

I took the gun and put the safety catch on. Howard just stared at his lap the tears following his gaze. I placed the gun in my jacket pocket and before I knew what I was doing I was touching Howard's face, cupping his cheek and wiping away his remaining tears with my thumb. He sniffed, looking me right in the eyes. He didn't look scared anymore, he looked confused and something else, which I couldn't work out, but he nuzzled into my hand, stroking it with his own.

Something was happening between us that I didn't understand. We were moving closer together, I knew what was coming. I couldn't let it happen. Could I? But I _was_ letting it happen. Closer and closer we moved, until I could smell him. Smell the jazzy weirdness, musky scents of stale smoke and fear. A lot of fear, he was really nervous. More nervous than when he'd pointed a gun in my face, more nervous than when I pointed a gun in his face. And then… we kissed. It was electric, something I'd never wanted and always wanted at the same time. It was twisted perfection. But he soon stopped it, or did I stop it? I still don't know, but he spoke first.

"What am I doing? I don't know you."


	4. When you tell him he's the one

**Carries straight on from previous chapter...**

* * *

"I think you love me." I laughed. Howard was staring out of the window, looking very confused and embarrassed by what had just happened.

"I don't."

"No, maybe not me, but Vince. You love Vince." I said, kindly. Being kind is not something I'm really accustomed to, but I had a lot of practice when I was being Vince. I must have become pretty good at it too, because Howard nodded, slowly.

"I'm sorry that I'm not Vince. No one will ever be Vince. Vince is dead."

"Don't." Howard was beginning to cry again.

"I'm sure Vince loved you."

"Please stop." Howard was begging, angry tears forcing there way down his cheeks, "Don't ruin Vince for me."

"But, I _am_ Vince. I mean… I can be Vince if you want."

"Don't." Howard looked at me, weeping uncontrollably.

"God Howard." I laughed. "Looks like you could do with a poncho to cheer you up."

"Stop it."

"You know, it's impossible to be unhappy in a poncho. They're genius!"

"Stop it!"

"Or we could listen to Gary Numan. He's cool. Did you know he's not only a singer but he's got a pilot licence? Imagine that, a singer with a pilot licence!"

"I hate Gary Numan." he sniffed quietly, reluctantly joining in my warped role-play.

"You can't hate Gary Numan." I insisted, pulling my most Vince-like expression "He's amazing! Remember when we kept him in a cupboard and you got him out to cheer me up. That was so much fun."

"Yeah, you're right it was." I could tell he was softening, so I pressed on, widening my eyes, pretending to be innocent, pretending to be Vince.

"What's your favourite memory, Howard?"

"Do you remember the time we had those pancakes?" I'm ashamed to say we crimped. I knew we were going to, I felt that familiar tingling buzz, that connection I get when a crimp is about to start.

"Eggs, milk and flour,  
pancake power,  
Look at his milky yellow sunshine face  
Flip it now flip it good oo  
Flip it now flip it good oo  
Some are salt  
Some are sweet  
Some are fruit  
Some are meat  
The time we used the chive  
It really came alive!  
Edible frisbee's  
Springtime Tuesday  
I like to boogie."

As we finished crimping, I took the initiative and kissed him, and this time, he didn't push me away. This time he was kissing Vince. He was running his hands up Vince's back. He stalled a bit when he reached my short hair, so I pressed against him to urge him on and soon he was pulling my shirt over my head, as I steered him awkwardly into the back of the van.

"How long have you loved me Howard?" I breathed, as he kissed my neck.

"Oh." he said between kisses, "I've always loved you Vince." I pushed him away roughly, so that he hit his head hard on the side of the van, and he deserved it.

"I'm _not_ Vince!" I seethed.

"But you were acting like Vince." Howard protested, rubbing his sore head.

"I don't care. I'm not doing anything with you if you're pretending I'm Vince. It's not fair."

"Not fair? I'll tell you what's 'not fair'… this whole situation. I didn't want to become a convict. I don't want to be terrified of the police. I don't like always looking over my shoulder. It would have been easier if you'd just killed me like the others," tears were streaming down his face and his voice was becoming louder and more broken, until he screeched. "Why are you putting me through this? Why didn't you just kill me?"

"I couldn't" I admitted quietly.

"Why not?" he was still screaming.

"Because I love you!" I don't know why I said it. It's not even true. I guess I just saw him crying and realised that saying it was the only chance I had of getting any action. And hey, it worked, because, suddenly, he'd stopped crying and was stroking my face gently, saying.

"You know, they say in this game you should never form a bond with anyone because other people let you down but I guess sometimes that's harder than you think." The git! He stole my words! But I didn't let my anger show…much. I just stared at him, emotionless. I could see he felt sorry for me now. That's a joke but I let him continue. "I loved Vince, of course I did and I hardly know you but… I mean, is it wrong that I find you much sexier now that you're dangerous?" I smiled, I couldn't help it, and he took that to mean everything was okay so he kissed me, and this time it was _me_ he kissed, not Vince.

That's how I got here, sat in the back of the van with Howard in my arms. He's sleeping peacefully but I can't relax. With every passing second it becomes more and more likely I'll lose control of the nana's; with every passing minute it becomes more and more likely Ricky, Jonny and Edward will find us and with every passing hour it's becoming less and less likely that I will be able to leave Howard in a ditch somewhere. But I'm going to have to, it's the only way insure a clean get away and I'll have to kill him because otherwise there's always the doubt that he might talk.

"Hey Kid," Howard stirs "What time is it?"

"Time to move." I sigh as I remove my arms from around his shoulders and reach for my clothes, the same clothes I've been wearing for the past week. I stop, just as I'm about to pull my shoes on. Something is wrong. He has a strange look in his eyes. Oh God. What if he regrets it? I'll have to kill him, I don't think I could live with the shame, or the guilt. My eyes glance to my jacket pocket, where my gun is kept. The jacket is the other side of the van, behind Howard, but it doesn't matter. I couldn't have killed him anyway. Could I? Just point and shoot, right? Maybe I could kill us both, but then, wouldn't that defy the point of all this running so far? Besides, I like being on the run. It stops life from becoming too dull.

Howard is looking at me. I can tell he really needs to talk to someone, but not to me. He needs to talk _about_ me, and Vince. He knows I wont let him mention Vince but it's eating away at him. I can see it in his eyes.

"Howard," I say "If you want to talk, go ahead. I won't be angry. Say whatever's on your mind."

He's not sure whether or not to take me up on my offer but, after a moment, he decides he will (probably because he's got no one else to talk to).

"It's just… I know this will sound stupid but, I feel like I've cheated on Vince."

"But I am Vince, sort of."

"I know and, unbelievably, even though you scare the crap out of me and you've killed people and, and I can't believe I'm saying this, you tried to destroy London with an army of pensioners, I _do_ like you - a lot. It's just, I _loved_ Vince. He's the only person I've ever loved."

"I know." I say quietly. What do I do? Do I tell him that it's okay? Or do I tell him to stop being stupid? Vince never was and never will be, so get over it. But…

"What's that?" I ask, in the distance I can hear the unmistakable sound of a police siren approaching. We scramble around for the remainder our clothes and within seconds we're tearing off down the road at a hundred miles an hour. Howard's driving, I'm in the passenger seat. Ironic really. I guess it signals the beginning of some semblance of control on his part. He glances at me and grins. Oh God! Am I staring at him? What the hell is wrong with me? I'm the Kid, I'm not supposed to become attached to people. That's why I am so good at my job! That's why I _was_ so good at my job. Oh Howard, what are you doing to me?

* * *

**Thanks for reading, reviews are loved. I always like to hear you're opinions and ideas on how to improve.  
And they do make me all happy, go on make a girl's day!  
Sisi...xx**


	5. When he splits and leaves you on the run

**I'm going to dedicate this chapter to 'The.7****th.****Daughter' because it was her review that inspired me to write it. **

**(Therefore, if you don't like it, blame her - only joking, obviously. You'd have to blame me, don't though. Blame cheese, after all it is the route of all evil)**

**The song is 'Sorry' by Buckcherry, I don't own it! :(**

**Quite a long chapter; sorry!**

* * *

I don't know why I did it. He made me do it! He kept pushing me and pushing me until I flipped. He forgot his place, he forgot the circumstances, once again, he forgot that I'm not Vince. I did warn him I was losing it but he didn't stop. It's his fault as much as mine. But now he's gone and I miss him and I hate myself for that too.

--

We finally arrived in London at around midday, not that you'd have known if you'd looked up at the dark red sky and the thick black clouds.

"Why are we here?" Howard squeaked, when we'd got out of the van and were walking down Oxford street.

"I've got to find the Nana's." I said, getting myself ready for the summoning by entering 'the zone'.

"But, why?" Howard interrupted me.

"For god sake Howard!" I snapped, "I'm concentrating. Can't you just shut up for a change?" Howard fell silent and I began the ritual of summoning. I'd just knelt on the floor to begin the chant when I felt Howard tapping frantically on my shoulder.

"What?" I scowled, automatically pointing my gun at him.

"I d-don't think you're going to need to s-summon them." he stammered pointing shakily down the street. "They're coming."

I looked up to see an army of pensioners advancing down the street towards us, pushing their way through the post-war fog that had wrapped itself around the London streets.

"Hello!" I yelled, as confidently as I could manage.

"Hello dear." came the croaky reply from the distance.

"I am your leader, Vince. Do you obey me?"

"Do you obey me? Honestly. Brenda, these youth today, they're getting more and more ridiculous." the voice came again.

"I couldn't agree more, Edith."

"Do you obey me?" I repeated, though I was a little confused by what was happening. The nana's were still advancing but they weren't marching, like they had been when I'd first let them loose on London, they were, well, waddling, if anything. And they were chatting away happily.

"He's still going, Edith. Ridiculous. It wasn't like that in our day. You must be seen and not heard, that's what we were told young man." the one called Brenda said to me, as she finally came into view.

"Is that Nanatoo?" Howard asked,

"I don't know." I hissed, pointing my gun at her.

"Oh dear." the one called Edith sighed. "They say gun crimes on the increase but you never think it's going to happen to you, do you?"

"I know." replied Brenda "And he's not even doing it right."

"What?!" I spluttered. I was livid, how dare they tell me I'm not doing it properly? I'm a professional.

"Well you're holding the gun all wrong for starters."

"What?" I repeated.

"You're pointing it in the wrong place. If you shoot now, you're going to miss."

"Shut up!" I yelled.

"Oh, and now you're losing it. You're no killer. You're not in control."

"I am in control." I shouted, but I knew deep down the old bat was right and it annoyed me.

"You're not and you're wasting my time. I'm trying to get to leave the city. Apparently there's some crazy old people on the loose, you might want to leave too, son." And with that Edith, Brenda and three other woman pushed past me and Howard, who was laughing silently, and waddled off down the road.

"What?!" I screeched turning my attention to Howard.

"Nothing." he sniggered.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked, I was shaking with anger.

"You just got flustered by an old woman." he sniggered.

"I didn't." I shouted, but I could feel myself turning red.

"You did. You went all weak, like a child."

"Shut up!" I screamed, grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him towards me, cocking the gun and putting it under his chin. He closed his eyes tight and I could feel his heart beating through his shirt, the sweat was dripping from his hair. "Now, I'm warning you, Howard." I hissed, "One more word and I pull the trigger, got it?" I must have looked crazy because I sure as hell felt it. I've never been so out of control with a gun in my hand before and I could tell he was terrified, but he was acting strangely calm, which only served to annoy me further. "Aren't you scared?" I spat.

"You wont kill me." he said confidently,

"What makes you so sure?"

"You love me."

I laughed cruelly. "Love? Ha! I don't love you, you gullible moron."

"But you said..." he whimpered

"I only said that because I thought you'd let me nail you, which you did." I smirked. Then, I kissed him hard. I don't know why. He tried to push me away, but I wouldn't let him. I'm stronger than I look.

Eventually, when I'd had enough of his incompetent kissing technique, I pushed him away, hard, so that he fell onto the floor with a thump, his eyes full of confusion, uncertainty and heartbreak.

"You're weak." I smirked, kicking him violently in the stomach.

"I'm not weak." he rasped angrily, picking himself up with difficulty and clutching at his stomach.

"If you weren't weak you'd have left by now."

"What?"

"You're too scared to leave me. You're too scared to find out what happens to Howard Moon when there is no Vince Noir… no me."

Howard was breathing heavily, bubbling with anger. "I hate you.". He spat out each word with such venom that it actually cut through me, hitting me like icicles' through the heart, but more than that it infuriated me. It pushed me over the edge and I swung for him. I cracked him right on the cheekbone with the handle of my gun and he hit the ground hard. It felt good. He looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear, clutching at his face. His eyes were brimming over with tears but he wasn't letting them fall. He wasn't letting me break him, not this time. This time, he was being strong and I didn't like it, so, as he struggled to his feet, I hit him again in the centre of the back so that he fell heavily to the tarmaced road.

Again, he moved to get up, but this time I was ready for it. I whacked him in the temple with my gun and he collapsed to the floor.

"Don't get up." I warned, pointing the offending weapon at him. He nodded, silently. His eyes fixed on the floor as the blood from his fresh wound began to drip on to his jacket. And suddenly, the realisation of what I had done hit me, my stomach twisted painfully and I reached down to touch his shoulder. He flinched and moved away, so I had to contend myself by passing him a piece of cloth, which I always keep with me so that I can mop up the blood if I ever get shot. He took it and pressed it to his head, wincing at the pain.

I held out my hand to help him up but he rejected it. Instead, he got himself to his feet slowly, painfully and brushed himself off, still holding the cloth to his bleeding head. He refused to let me help him back to the van either, instead, he staggered along side me in complete silence. All thought's of finding the Nana's abandoned.

We sat in silence for what seemed like hours. As I watched Howard mopping up the blood from his gash, the gash that I'd given him, I felt a hint of remorse nagging at me but I pushed it to the back of my mind and said.

"Shall we get driving?"

Silence.

"Maybe we could go to Wales, hide in the mountains like cave men, or Scotland, they've got even bigger mountains."

Silence.

"Howard, say something." I urged.

Silence.

I hate being ignored, that's something Vince and I have in common, it's probably the only thing we have in common. So, I slammed the keys into the ignition and drove away from London, drove away from the nana's, which were probably the only way I was going to get out of this mess alive. After a while the silence began to drive me mad, so I put on the radio.

_Oh I had a lot to say  
Was thinking all my time away  
I missed you and things weren't the same  
'Cause everything inside  
it never comes out right  
And when I see you cry  
it makes me wanna die_

_I'm sorry I'm bad,  
I'm sorry you're blue  
I'm sorry 'bout all the things I said to you  
And I know I can't take it back  
I love how you kiss, I love all your sounds  
And baby the way you make my world go 'round  
And I just wanted to say I'm sorry. _

I quickly, turned it off. I felt bad enough without my music making me feel even worse - stupid lyrics! So we carried on in silence. When it got dark, I pulled over to a travel inn, parked up the van and went in to see if the had any rooms. The man behind the counter told me that they had one twin room left if I wanted it. I thanked him and we moved in for the night.

It was the nicest sleeping arrangement's we'd had since we'd started all this running, but Howard wasn't even slightly impressed. He just sat there sullen and silent. Is it wrong that I found 'sulking Howard' quite sexy? But I suppose it doesn't matter now, he's gone.

I went to bed early because I was sick of the uncomfortable atmosphere and when I woke up he wasn't there. The bed hadn't even been slept in, just led on top of for a while, probably whilst he was waiting for me to fall asleep. In his place was a note, his writing was blurry and hard to read which told me he was crying when he wrote it.

_I thought about what you said, about me being weak  
__and I think you're right. I was weak. I was so in love  
__with Vince that I needed to hold on to the tiny bit of him  
__that I could see in you._

_But now I realise you're nothing like Vince. Nothing  
__at all, and you never will be. And I can assure you Howa__rd  
Moon will be just fine without you, and I can survive without  
Vince. __Despite everything, I still care about you and I want  
you to know that it was _so _hard to leave; but it's just _too  
_hard to stay._

_Take care of yourself Kid,  
__Howard_

I've read it a million times, as I walk down the hard shoulder of the motorway. And the words are even more blurry now because my eyes are watering. It's probably hay fever or something. He's taken everything. My van, my food, my money; everything, except my gun.

I hate him! I hate him so much! And I swear if I ever see him again, I will kill him!


	6. When your friends hate what youve become

It's hard being so alone for so long. Has it been days, weeks, months since he left? I don't know. I've stopped counting, just like I've stopped living. I think I want to die. I've got nothing to live for and more and more I find myself asking the question 'What's the point?'. Everyday is a struggle to survive, not only because I'm hardly eating and hardly sleeping but also because I'm struggling to tell myself that I_ need_ to. What's the point?

I've tried to keep myself busy, to stop myself thinking about things. I summoned the Nana's, I thought that maybe I could take over London on my own, but that was just one huge mistake. They'd mutinied and, once again, I was running.

A few times I thought about stopping. Letting them kill me, death by knitting needle doesn't sound so bad but something kept pulling me on. A voice in the back of my head, possibly with a northern lilt, urging me to stay alive, urging me to keep running - that sick part of my brain that still get's a thrill from all the running and the danger. But each day that voice gets quieter and harder to hear, it's becoming completely drowned out by the louder and more persuasive side, that's screaming 'end it, end it now'.

So I did stop and the Nana's caught up with me. Just as they were bearing down on me, so close I could see my reflection in their horrible blood-red eyes, something inside me reminded me that I had to hold on. I have one more mission to complete. I promised myself I'd kill him and I will. With the thought of killing Howard Moon spurring me on, I reached for my gun and shot them, one by one, slowly but surely. Just as cold heartedly as I always had done. I felt like me again, watching each one falling to the ground, melting into a horrible green goo, until only Nanatoo was left.

She screamed. She began to knit. Calmly, I raised my gun and pointed it at her but I as I watched the advancing scarf coming towards me I noticed my gun felt incredibly light. I flipped open the cylinder to see that I only had one bullet left and I wasn't going to use that. I'm saving that for him. So I stooped down, picked up a large rock and launched it at her head. She fell to the floor. I ran.

I didn't sleep for days after that. I wasn't worried I'd be found by her, it's just hard to fall asleep when you're curled up on some cardboard boxes under a bridge or on a park bench. After a while, I stopped slumming it and now I've taken to sleeping in hotels and leaving before they asked for payment. Each time I give Howard's name. I wonder if he's been arrested yet?

The rains beating down around me now. It's cold and sharp on my skin. My hair seems to direct the rain drops into by eyes and I'm blinking furiously, searching for somewhere, so that I can get my escape. Then, I spot it. A small concrete, bunker-like shelter hidden at the side of the road. I walk over to it carefully, avoiding the jagged rocks and the mud which is slippery because of the rain, and sit down in the mud and grime which lines the floor of the bunker.

There's another man in there, huddled at the back clutching a thermos flask tight to his chest. He ignores me, so I repay the compliment and take out the small silver package from my jacket pocket. I unwrap the foil, my white-powder escape stares back at me so innocently. I haven't got a syringe, so I have to settle for rolling it up in an old receipt I found in my jeans pocket and looking for a something to light it with.

"Oi." I shout to the tramp. "You got a lighter?"

"No, I've got a match though." he replies. "I was saving it for when Richard comes back with the wood. We were going to have ourselves a proper fire tonight, but… I mean I suppose you can have it if it's urgent." Homeless people are idiots. They've got so little and yet they share everything. They have no idea that when you're alone it's better to be selfish. You have no one else to think about.

"It's urgent!" I snap. And it is, I've been waiting for this hit all day and if I don't get it soon I'm going to do something _really _crazy. The man nods and holds out the match.

"If you're sure it can't wait." he says "Richard will probably be back soon."

"Yeah," I smirk sarcastically, striking the match several times along the slightly damp wall before it lights. "Because Richard definitely hasn't been killed by a nutter with a gun." I say brandishing my own trusty weapon and waving it in his general direction. He throws his arms in the air. He looks so weak, pathetic that I almost laugh and part of me shouts 'Kill him!', it's been a very long time since I've killed someone just because I could. But another part of me likes having power over him and seeing the fear in his eyes, so instead, I light my homemade spliff, keeping the gun pointed steadily at him. He's trembling now and mumbling things like 'please don't kill me, please', which gives me a twisted kind of pleasure.

"I don't understand" I say, taking a long slow drag. "You're homeless, no one loves you, no one likes you, your life is worthless." He's so much like me. "Why don't you want to die?"

"There's plenty to live for." He replies. "I mean, here's Richard now, with the wood." he eyes the lit match that I'm still holding. "We're going to have that fire after all."

"I don't think so" I laugh, dropping the match into the wet mud. I watch the homeless mans face drop. He looks devastated. I grin, why does hurting people feel so good?

"Oh, that wasn't very nice was it Kid?" comes the voice from behind me. I spin round and there he is, Richard… or as most people call him, Ricky.

--

I'm dead. I'm so dead. He's going to kill me and the homeless guy… is he in on it? Oh… yes then. I feel a gun pressed into my back and he mutters

"How d'you like having a gun pointed at you, huh?"

"Oh he loves it," smirked Ricky. "He's so twisted he actually gets off on the prospect of being killed."

"Screw you!" I say, I try to sound threatening but it just comes out as a nervous squeak and Ricky laughs cruelly, before punching me in the stomach. I double over but the guy with the gun in my back pulls me by the hair so that I'm stood up, ready for the next blow to the stomach and the next and the next, until he lets me fall to muddy ground wheezing and coughing in pain.

I try to breath but it's hard, I'm gulping in the air but I still feel strangled. My eyes are watering the pain is shooting through me, but Ricky's not done. He kicks me in the side. Pain rips through my ribs, as he kicks me again and again. I squirm, rolling myself up tight to try and protect myself, but, maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should be brave. Like Howard was when I beat him up, keep standing up, show Ricky that I'm not weak. If I'm going to die, I guess I may as well go down fighting.

Slowly I push myself up onto my knees and struggle to my feet. Ricky looks mildly amused but smacks me again in the side of the face with one of the pieces of wood he'd been carrying. I wobble and stagger, I spit a tooth and a lot of blood from my mouth but I refuse to fall. I grab the wall for support and turn to face Ricky, I know my eyes are blazing. I'm angry and defiant and I know Ricky's going to hate it, but he doesn't seem to care. He's enjoying himself too much, he raises the wood again and I shout "Stop!"

He hesitates, but then goes ahead and hits me in the ribs. I scream with pain and drop to the floor clutching my side.

I'm sure my ribs are broken. I can hardly see because of the sweat stinging my eyes and my mouth is full of blood. But again, I stagger to my feet, spitting yet more blood from my mouth I say.

"Where are the others? Where's Edward?"

"Dead." Ricky says, delivering another blow to the ribs. I collapse and this time I don't get up.

"Jonny?"

"Who d'you think found out you were here? You know Kid, you used to be good but using Howard's name? That was stupid! Jonny found you every time you checked in." Crap! I'm so stupid, of course they were looking for him too. "Pretty high-class taste you two have got. There's no way you've managed to afford all of that. Where is Howard anyway?"

"Gone." I wince as Ricky drags me towards him.

"Gone? Gone where?" he asks, he's so close I can smell his breath, he smells of alcohol and fags.

"I don't know." Ricky punches me in the face so that I fall back to the floor, but strangely the sharpest pain is in my chest. It feels like someone has pulled out my heart and is kicking it around the floor.

"You don't know?" Ricky repeats, laughing cruelly "Did he run away from you? After you saved his life. Ungrateful sod, I warned you not to get attached, didn't I?"

"Shut up!" I yell. He's got no right to talk about Howard like that.

"Uh oh" laughed the 'homeless man'. "Sounds like you hit a raw nerve there, Rick."

"Who the hell are you?" I scream, pushing myself onto my knees. Ricky whacks me with the wood, so that I slam into the blood-covered mud again, and he smirks.

"Watch your manners, Kid! This, is Mitch. He's the new you."

"What?" I rasp, it's all I can manage. The agony is gripping every inch of me, I can hardly think anymore, all I can concentrate on is pain.

"I took over from you after you left."

"He's better than you, too. I mean, he hasn't killed a member of the gang yet." Ricky grins "That reminds me, go and tell Jonny to get the van started, Mitch. We're going to have to leave quickly, before people find his body." Mitch nods and legs it out of the bunker.

I glare at Ricky from the floor. I'm covered in blood, sweat and the tears that had forced themselves from my eyes. The pain sears through me and I know the end is close. I can feel it, my body slowly giving up the fight.

"I'm sorry I let you down Rick." I rasp. Ricky nods slowly, kneeling down beside me.

"You could have been the best, Kid." he sighs, using his sleeve to wipe my face gently. "You _were_ the best."

"I still could be." I wince, "I could come back to the gang."

"No," he's speaking so softly I'm struggling to hear him "You can't play this game anymore Kid."

"Why not?"

"Because you're in love."

"I'm not!" I cry. I regret it immediately, the sudden protest sending a white hot pain through my ribs.

"You are." he sighs, standing up "I saw it in your eyes the day you shot Roger and I saw it just then when you told me he was gone."

He pulls me to my feet, so that I'm leaning heavily against the wall.

"What are you doing?" I ask

"I want you to die with dignity, Kid." he leans forward and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. I don't know why, I don't dare to ask. Maybe I'm his Howard. "You deserve so much better than to be shot whilst you're rolling round on the floor."

"Make it quick." I murmur, tiredly. I am tired. I'm sick of this now, maybe I want to die.

He nods slowly, takes a few steps backwards and pulls out his gun. I stand defiant and proud as he raises the run to my head. I look him right in the eye and I can see they are watery and his cheeks are damp.

"I'm so sorry." he whispers.

**BANG**


	7. When you know that youre gonna die young

Darkness. I'm must be dead… but I'm still in pain. Surely being dead isn't supposed to hurt. I open my eyes. This doesn't look much like hell. Ricky's still stood there with the gun pointed at my head and I'm still surrounded my mud, concrete walls and smears of my own blood.

"I'm alive?" I say stupidly, "Why didn't you didn't kill me?"

"Because you're in love." he croaks "Now… run, find him, run and never look back and _don't_ let out paths cross again because next time Kid, I will kill you!"

"Okay." I nod.

"Now run…**RUN!**"

And I run! I'm still running. I feel as though my lungs are about to explode. My legs are so week that I'm sure they're about to giveaway and my chest is so tight that I can hardly breath. I'm gulping in the cold air but it's not enough. I can't do it anymore, I can't… I… I collapse. My ribs hurt as I hit the ground, I smack my head on the pavement and roll off into a ditch

I feel so weak. My body aches, not only from where Ricky hit me, but also from the running. Everything hurts. I want to die! I just want the pain to stop. It's not as though I have anything to live for. I close my eyes. The darkness is warm and inviting. Is it possible to just stop, to switch off and die? If I really want it enough, can I just stop?

Each time I close my eyes I see him. His stupid moustached face comes swimming into view, calling me back to consciousness. Why wont the let me go? Why can't I let him go?

I open my eyes but I can't shake the image of him. He's stood looking at me from the pavement, and then, the image speaks.

"W-what's happened to you?"

And I realise, it's not an image. It's Howard, he's back.

It takes all of my effort to reach to my jacket pocket and pull out my gun. I cock it slowly, the final bullet. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time. I point the gun at him shakily. I try to keep my hand steady but I'm trembling ferociously. It doesn't matter. I'm going to kill him. He single-handedly ruined my life and now, I'm going to take his.

He makes a step towards me but stops as I spit blood from my mouth and say slowly, each word causing me more pain than the last. "Don't take one more step Howard Moon," I grimace "Or I swear to God I'll put a bullet through your head."

"No you wont." he says coolly as he climbs down slowly into the ditch. I'm going to kill him. Pull the trigger. Pull it! Why aren't I shooting? He kneels beside me and gently removes the gun from my limp fingers.

"What makes you so sure?" I ask stupidly, as he places the gun back in my pocket.

"Because you love me." he says. He's so calm, so cold. He hates me. It's obvious. I know he's being kind but something's missing from his eyes. He acts like he's not worried about the fact I'm so close to death, he just wraps his arms carefully around my shoulders, so he can help me to my feet, before leading me to the van.

Each step is agony and I can feel myself becoming more and more dependant on Howard and I hate it! I don't want to be dependent on anyone or anything. I'm the Kid, I don't need people. Do I?

I collapse into the passenger seat. Howard gets in beside me. I look at him for a while, really look at him. He looks stressed, tired and even rundown. Like he's seen more than he ever needed or indeed wanted to. He's still unsure of what's happening and, even though I'm beat up and my face is probably bruised and mangled, I think he's still a little scared of me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice sounds awful; low, raspy and very, very quiet.

"I came to find… I mean, I can't stop thinking about…"

"Vince." I finish dejectedly, looking into my lap. My life's a mess. He's back because he loves Vince. I want to cry but I'm too strong. I wont let him see that I'm weak. I'm not weak.

"No," Howard interrupts my thoughts "I kept thinking about you."

My head snaps up and I look him right in the eye. I know he's telling the truth, I can read him like a book, better than a book.

"You know what?" he says, pulling me towards him. It ache, as he squashes my ribs slightly, but I say nothing. I just relax into him.

"What?" I whisper, so quietly _I_ can barely hear it, but Howard just continues. "I was thinking about you so much I actually played your CD, Hell n' Petrol…"

"Diesel." I correct him.

"Mmm, them, just to take my mind off you. I thought they were a heavy rock band, so that there would be no soppy songs about love and broken hearts. And then one starts playing."

I smile, but I have a question. "So, did you only come back because of a song?"

"No." he reassures me. "I mean the song did remind me of you, but so did everything else, the van…"

"Well it is my van." I scowl, I'm beginning to feel better now that I'm safe in Howard's arms.

"Yeah, but stupid things too. Like yesterday, I walked into a shop to get a sandwich and all I could think of was which one you'd have. A couple of weeks ago, I looked into buying a flat in Newcastle and as I looked around I just kept wondering if you'd like it."

"And would I?"

"No."

I smile and we fall into a comfortable silence.

"How did you know I was here?" I ask, after a moment or two.

"I learned a few things off you." he smiled, "I thought like a criminal."

"You?" I chuckle, "Yeah, right."

"What I mean is, I saw Ricky in a service station and I knew he was trying to find you, I figured if I followed him he'd lead me to you."

"Really?" I'm impressed, he thought outside the box. He _never_ thinks outside the box.

He nods. Then he blushes embarrassedly when I ask

"I guess you really do like me, huh?"

"Guess I really do."

I smile and close my eyes, I can't help it, he's so warm and I'm so tired.

"No one's hurt you since you've been on your own have they?" I murmur.

"No, why?" he replies, in a voice that suggests he, too, is relaxed and comfortable.

"Good. I'd have shot his hands off if he had."

"If who had?"

"Ricky."

"Is that who did this to you?"

"Mmmm." I nod, nestling into his chest. I feel him become tense, his grip becoming just a little tighter, more angry. Then I feel him stroking my hair so I flap lazily at his hand. "I'm not a dog." I groan. "Stop petting me."

I hear him chuckle but he doesn't stop. He'll pay for that, but not yet. I'm too sleepy.

"Kid?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you." And I'm wide awake.

"You what!?" I ask, jumping up to glare at him.

"I love you" he repeats "And I'm not saying it because I think you'll let me nail you. _I__'__m _not like that." I blush. My words from the past coming back to haunt me. I want to say 'sorry' but I physically can't manage it. I want to tell him I love him too, but I can't just can't bring myself to say it. So instead, I kiss him, hard, passionate. I don't care that it hurts my aching face, I have to let him know all the things my words will never say.

I think he understands, deep down, he knows I'll never apologise when I hurt him and that I'll never tell him I love him. But I know, that he will know when I'm sorry and I know that he knows that I love him. If he didn't know that, he wouldn't be here.

I stop the kiss, he's breathless. I grin, I guess I wont have to always use my gun to shut him up in future. He's smiling. I haven't seen him do that for a while, not since he found out who I really am.

"Why the hell aren't you driving?" I snap suddenly. He jumps and nervously rams the key in the ignition. "It's alright for you." I continue, as we tear off down the road. "I've still got pensioners, gangsters and policemen after me. Do you want me to get arrested, is that it?"

"No" he sighs, putting his foot down.

"Good, coz I don't know if you've noticed but a lot of people find me quite attractive. If I were in prison I'd get passed around like a sex toy."

He smirks.

"You better not be laughing." I warn.

"I'm not." He is.

"Screw you." I frown, pressing play on the radio and turning it up so that I can't even hear myself think.

_Through the water coloured glass  
__Across a multi-coloured ocean  
__Moving bodies across  
__To catch a glimpse of that red coat  
__  
Things I usually recall  
__Are words you never got to hear, at all_

"Was this the soppy Ballard?" I shout, so that he can hear me over the music, then I wince because shouting hurts my ribs. He looks at me anxiously but I warn him not to mention it, with my eyes, so he sighs and shouts back.

"Yeah, yeah this would be it."

_I'__m fallin__'__ now I__'__m crashing down again  
__Being pulled inside out  
__I__'__m fallin__'__ now and I__'__m losing ground  
__Losing ground  
__As I__'__m staring at the wall__Finding patterns in the cracks  
__I reflect upon the fact that I probably deserve this._

"Hey," he shouts again, with a big stupid grin on his face. "Does that make this our song?"

"Get lost!" I turn the song off. "We're not having a song."

He smiles smugly. Oh my god! He tricked me, he just didn't want the music on. I wouldn't normally fall for something so obvious. It's probably because I'm tired. I'm not off my game. I glare at him, but soon get bored and take to looking out of the window instead, reading the road signs, because there's nothing better to do.

We sit in silence for a while, until we reach a roundabout, so many directions, endless possibilities. Howard looks at me.

"So, Kid." he says, "Where do we go now?"

* * *

**Yes, I did just pay homage to my beloved Guns N' Roses in the last line and, yes, that was another reference to Hell N' Diesel. I couldn't help it, the first one worked so well (Shrink to Be ;-))**

**Anyway, that was originally going to be the end but (and I know this sounds **_**very**_** sad) I've fallen slightly in love with 'man-who-isn't-actually-Vince-but-more-of-an-evil-non-Vince' and 'nervous-Howard' and if I'm honest, I'm stuggling to let them go. So I've written more of their story (which will probably, eventually, include the Kids real name - I know a few have you have been worried about that), but I know there are a lot of 'assassin' stories up at the moment and they're not exactly conventional fan fic. (for the Boosh, anyway) so I might not put it up.**

**More importantly; Thank you to EVERYONE who has read and reviewed this story. You are all much loved and your reviews have been so lov-er-ly and, in some cases, genuinely inspirational. So…  
****Thank you, thank you, thank you.**

**Love ya all  
****Sisi…xx **


	8. New Beginnings

**Sorry it's been a while. I've been really busy, with homework and that... Anyway, here's the next chapter. **

* * *

There he is. I can see him. Damn, he's out of sight. No, no, there. Perfect view. Raise gun, look through eyepiece. Oh, where to put the first bullet? Arse, I think. Finger on trigger. Pull.

"Die! Die Howard Moon!" I scream, cackling like a crazy man.

"Alright, alright."

"Yeah! I won." I love winning. It doesn't matter that he's crap at this game or that he insists he _lets _me win, in case I actually shoot him. All that matters is that I kill virtual Howard.

There have been times in the past few months when I've pointed my real gun at him but he doesn't even flinch anymore. He just looks bored by the whole charade, usually tutting or sighing as he walks away from me as though I'm an annoying, attention-seeking child, which, in a way, I suppose I am.

I've got that complacency out of him now though. Yesterday, I shot an inch to the left of him. I think he nearly died of shock and he called me every curse word he could think of until I shut him up with a kiss, telling him, in a low husky voice, that I'd do _anything_ to make it up to him. He immediately dragged me off to the bedroom like a lust-filled teenager.

I wouldn't say our relationship is normal, but it works for us. Anyway, he loves it when I point my gun at him, he says he doesn't but I can tell he's lying. I was surprised by that too, I thought Howard would've been into cuddling on the sofa and watching cheesy films in front of the fire but he's not. He gets a similar sick thrill from danger as I do. He's just less honest about it. I guess watching people getting shot changes you. Or maybe falling in love changes you. But, I haven't changed.

He's learnt to call my bluff not, too. I don't like that at all! And he's started playing all the little mind games he swears he hates so much. Like the other night, there was nothing on TV, except chick flicks and the news, so I picked up my gun and started twirling it around my fingers, which is something I often do when I get bored.

"Watch it Cowboy!" Howard smirked.

"Yeeha!" I screeched at the top of my voice, it's probably a good thing our house is miles from anywhere or the neighbours would wonder what the hell goes on in here. Then I put on my best Texan drawl, pointing my gun at him and said "Stick 'em up partner!"

Howard turned to me and raised an eyebrow before returning to flick through the TV channels.

"Bang, bang" I said, waving my gun at him but he just ignored me. He plays along sometimes, but not often.

"You're dead." I added, after a while, when he was still refusing to play dead.

"That would make sense." he smirked "This does look and feel a lot like hell."

"Screw you!" I snarled, and he laughed. "Hey, I've got a way we could have some fun tonight."

Howard raised both eyebrows and grinned.

"Not that, you perve!" I laughed "Well, actually yes, probably that too. But this first." I held up my gun.

"Oh not that flaming thing again! Can't you just lock it away somewhere? There's got to be some law against waving a gun around in your boyfriends face."

"Boyfriend?!"

"Well… I mean, I just thought that… but you said… I , but" he mumbled before falling silent. I let the silence drag on for a while. I still like to watch him squirm.

"So," I said, eventually. "You wanna play a game?"

"What game?" he asked, nervously eyeing the gun.

"Russian Roulette." I said triumphantly, flipping open the chamber and tipping out the bullets one by one until there was only a single bullet left. I though he'd say 'no'. I'd only said it to shake him up a bit, to remind him I'm still crazy. To remind him who's boss but he just stared at me defiantly and said

"Yeah, go on then."

'What?!' I screamed internally, but I stayed calm.

"You sure? You _do_ know what Russian Roulette is, don't you Howard?" I asked, spinning the chamber and closing it up.

"Of course I know. I'm not a complete imbecile" he scorned. He was acting calm too but I could see in his eyes he was nervous.

"Okay then." I grinned, holding the gun against my head. I stared at him as I did it, willing him to break. Hoping he'd tell me not to do it but he stayed silent, so I pulled the trigger.

"Lucky" he whistled, taking the gun bravely. He was pretending to be unaffected but he was shaking so violently that he had to ram barrel to this temple to hold keep the gun steady. I should have said something like 'Come on, this is ridiculous. Put the gun down.' But he'd let me pull the trigger when it was against my head, so I said nothing. He pulled the trigger and breathed a long sigh of relief. We both did. Then managing to regain his composure, he passed the gun back to me with a small smile.

"Your turn."

I took the gun and held it to my head, placing my fingers on the

trigger. He was staring at me, his eyes shining with un-fallen tears.

"What are you going to do if I die, Howard?" I asked coolly. "Bury me? Hide me? What?""What would you do if I died?" he replied, equally coolly.

"Same thing I do with all my murder victims." I smiled. "You know what Howard? This could be it. Pull of the trigger and I'm done for… no more me. Only you, living this life you hate all alone. Seriously Howard, in a matter of seconds I could be sprawled on the floor with a bullet in my head."

"You don't have to do it." he gabbled quietly, the first tear sliding down his cheek.

"Oh I do. I don't want to lose this game, do I? I'm just saying this could be it."

"Okay, okay stop it. We'll stop playing. Just put down the gun." I'd won, he'd lost his nerve first, but I pressed on.

"I don't want to lose Howard. I'd rather die." I let the last word linger in the air a little.

"Shut up." he begged, the tears falling down his cheeks. "Put it down, stop messing around." I wasn't really enjoying hurting him but I couldn't stop myself.

"Goodbye Howard."

"NO!"

I pulled the trigger. Nothing. Nothing except the very faint sound of a bullet clicking into place.

"You bitch!" Howard yelled snatching the gun from me and jamming it against his temple.

"No Howard. Don't!" I cried, the panic obvious in my voice.

"Not nice, is it?"

"No, seriously Howard. I think it's loaded this time."

"You thought it was loaded last time." he fumed.

"I was just messing with you Howard. Please." I begged. "Put it down."

Tears were trying to force their way from my eyes, but I held them back. I took a deep breath and said calmly. "Howard, look at me. Put the gun down please."

"No." he snarled "I don't recon there're any bullets in here anyway." he said putting his finger on the trigger.

"Noooooo!" I screamed, launching myself at the gun as he pulled, the bullet flew out of the gun, narrowly missing Howard's head and imbedded itself in the far wall.

"Oh my God!" I collapsed, my head landing on his chest. I could hear him panting. I could feel his heart racing and I knew mine was too. He clutched me close to him, so tight I couldn't move and I clung on to him, so aware of what I'd almost lost. We just stayed there for a while then he whispered, quietly, his voice loaded with fear and relief.

"Get rid of it."

I nodded, and for a few days it was locked away in a draw. But I soon got it back out again. I couldn't help it, it called to me. It demands my attention. It demands respect.

"Can't you just get rid of that thing?" he asks me now, as I gaze at it as though _it_ is my lover and _Howard_ is the inanimate object I get out and play with sometimes.

"No." I answer. "I've got big plans for it's future."

"You're not planning to kill me, are you?" he asks. He looks genuinely worried as he tidies up the games consoles, I guess my 'near miss' yesterday shook him up more than I thought.

"No I'm not."

"Then, who?"

"The people who gave me this." I say, pointing to a large scar along my cheek, which I got from Ricky that day in the bunker.

"He could've killed you." Howard sighed. "But he didn't. Can't you just be happy with that? Anyway, I like the scar, makes you look… sexier."

"Well that's true." I grinned"But that doesn't change the fact, the world would be a much better place if Ricky, Jonny and Mitch weren't in it."

"Ricky saved your life!"

"No. He _spared_ by life, there's a difference."

"Are you dead?"

"Yes."

"You're an idiot."

"Well, what kinda question was that?"

"What I'm saying is you're alive, so it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me!"

"Please Kid. I don't want to get mixed up in that."

"You wont. This'll be easy. You wont have to get involved."

"Just be careful, okay. Promise me." he says tapping the sofa beside him, inviting me to sit down, so I do. He puts his arm around me and pulls me towards him.

"It's not me who has to be careful." I scowl "It's them."

"Just promise me." he repeats, almost desperately.

"Okay." I sigh, "I promise."

"I Love you." he says. Oh not this again!

"Mmm." I groan, reaching up to kiss him. "Now, if you don't want to be involved, give me an hour or so alone. I need to plan my attack."

"What? Now?"

"Yeah. A few hours, okay?"

He nods although it's clearly not okay but it doesn't matter, he says nothing. I stand up, pick up my gun and go into the bedroom to start planning, leaving him to watch the TV, biting his nails and clearly worrying about our future. I like that he cares but sometimes I wish he'd just leave me alone when it comes to things like this. This is my _world _and he still doesn't fully understand it.

* * *

**So this is the general direction of the rest of the chapters…  
****Hope you all liked it! (Also, I ran out of lyrics from 'Ain't it Fun' (the song) to name my chapters out of)**

**Let me know, I like reviews they make me smiley!!  
****Sisi…xx**


	9. It's time for me to even the score

We were doing alright me and him. I'm starting to wonder why I ever got involved again. I'm so stupid. Ricky was right, you can't play the game when you're in love. Your enemy's know your weak spot. My weak spot has, and will always be, Howard and, armed with that knowledge, Ricky's got me exactly where he wants me; alone, angry and desperate. He knows I need Howard back, which makes things easy for him. All he has to do is wait for me, like a spider waiting for a fly.

--

I woke up very early. So early it was still dark. Howard was snoring lightly, his arm firmly around my waist. It took me a while to detach myself from him and slide from under the bedcovers, but I managed to do it without waking him and got dressed quickly. I grabbed my gun, kissed him lightly on the forehead and slipped down the corridor and out of the front door.

Mitch was my first victim for a few reasons, he was the newest to the gang, he was the easiest to track down and he tried to replace me. _No one_ does that and gets away with it.

I'd planed the whole thing. It was going to be pretty straight forward. Mitch was on a mission, playing a character called Alfred Morgan, a financial advisor in a big firm just outside London. He'd been assigned to badly-advise one of his richest clients by convincing him to put his money into a faux-bank account, which the gang could access. How do I know all this? I was very, very good at my job… and Jonny once, foolishly, showed me how to hack laptops. Ricky's is mine of information.

I'd booked myself an appointment to go and see 'Alfred Morgan' and was sitting patiently in the small waiting room, when the receptionist called "Mr Gardner. You can go in now."

"Thank you." I smiled politely and walked to the door with the gold plaque emblazoned with 'Alfred Morgan - Financial Advisor'. It was stuck on so, I ripped it off and knocked.

"Come in." came Mitch's cheery voice, so I did as he suggested, dropping the name plaque in the bin. Mitch was writing something on a piece of paper, so I could lock the door without him noticing. He looked very different to the last time I'd seen him when he was acting as a tramp. Now, he was wearing a smart suit, his hair was slicked back and he was waving his hand in the general direction of an empty green chair, saying "Sit down, sit down."

"I'd rather stand." I said calmly, "I don't intend to be here long."

"That's what I said when I first took this job." laughed Mitch. He was acting, quite convincingly, as a nice, law abiding citizen still engrossed in his paper work. "But fifteen years down the line, I'm still here." As he chuckled to himself, I pulled the gun out of my pocket and attached the silencer.

"Fifteen years?! Oh Mitch, didn't your mummy tell you not to lie?" I asked. He looked up. His eyes widened as he stared down the barrel of my gun and he swallowed hard as he slid his hand towards his desk draw. His gun was probably kept in there.

"Don't even think about it." I hissed, noticing his subtle movements. "Hands up where I can see them." He scowled and placed them on the desk and snared:

"I though you were dead."

"Never underestimate me." I smirk, "It's a huge mistake, in your case _fatal._"

"W-what's all this about?" he stammered, watching me closely as I began to play with the 'Newton's Cradle' on his desk with one hand. The other keeping the gun firmly pointed at his head.

"This is cool." I said, after a few moments, completely ignoring his question.

"Why are you here Kid?"

I looked up. He was starring back, wide-eyed and terrified.

"Revenge." I answered simply.

"For what?"

"Let's play a game." I smile, turning my attention back to the Cradle.

"For what?" he repeated, louder this time, his voice cracking with fear and frustration.

"Pick a number." I said, cheerfully. He looked confused.

"Revenge for what?"

"Pick a number." I said, a loss less cheerfully, cocking my gun.

"6" he blurted out.

"6? Good choice. Now," I said pulling back one of the silver balls. "If this clicks 6 times, I wont shoot you. However, if it _doesn__'__t_ reach 6... well, I think you can guess what'll happen." His eyes flicked from me, to the gun and back again. He nodded carefully. He was trembling, sweating profusely. "Let's count." I smiled, letting go of the ball.

"1...2...3...4...5...Oh dear. Looks like it's not your lucky day."

"No please, please" he begged.

"Bye Mitch." I smiled and pulled the trigger.

Even with the silencer, the gunshot was quite loud and soon the door handle was rattling.

"Alfred, are you okay in there?"

"Alfred, why's the door shut? Let me in."

Grabbing the gun and the Cradle I leapt out of the window, his office was on the ground floor so it wasn't as impressive as it sounds, but I did land flat on my face. Calmly, I stood up, dusted myself off and strode confidently towards the van. I threw the Cradle in the back along with the other knick-knacks and evidence that I've collected over the years and put my gun safely back in my pocket. Then, with the sound of a police car distance ringing in my ears, I drove away from the crime without breaking the speed limit all the way home.

As soon as I walked through the front door I knew something was wrong. The furniture was thrown about, there were a few smashed plates and a couple of pictures had come off the walls. There were nail scrams across the walls and a few bullet holes in the walls. There are clearly been some kind of struggle.

"Howard." I yelled, although I knew, deep down, he'd gone. "Howard?" I was almost begging, running round the house, looking everywhere looking for him. I hoped he'd jump out from inside a wardrobe, at any moment, shouting:

'Surprise! Gotcha there didn't I Kid? Oh you should see the look on your face.' but he didn't so, a long time after I realised he wasn't there, I stopped looking and collapsed onto the sofa in floods of tears. I felt sick and retched a few times, my chest was tight and my excessive tears were stinging my eyes. I've never felt so weak and needy as I did at that moment. I punched the wall in fury until my knuckles started to bleed and then, as I sucked the blood from my fist, I saw it. The note.

_I warned you not to cross me Kid, but you  
__couldn__'__t help yourself. Mitch was good at__  
his job and you killed him__…__ well, now I__'__ve  
__got Howard and I think it__'__s time to kill him too.  
__(eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth and all that).  
__Sometimes the bible talks sense._

_I__'__m not an unreasonable man, Kid. I__'__m not  
__going to kill Howard without letting you__ said good bye.  
__You know where we are… and please h__urry.  
__He__'__s **d**__**ying**__ to see you._

_Ricky_

So that's it. The end. Either, I never see Howard again, or he dies. Both options are torture. I can't live without Howard - I can't even breath without him.

Ricky _will _pay for this. When I see him, he's dead. And if he's hurt Howard? Well, then I'll find something worse than death for him but he wont get away with this. He _wont_! I'll crush him, if I have to. If I die in the process, I won't mind, especially if Howard's dead, I'll have no reason to live anymore. I may as well die for a good cause and, if he's hurt Howard, destroying Ricky will be a perfectly good cause.

* * *

**I'm so sorry. The twisted, evil and slightly sick side of my personality wrote that chapter… and God wasn't she was horrible?? (If i'm honest i freaked myself out a bit - haha!!)**

**Please don't hate me for being so twisted. And don't hate Kid either, because… well I was going to say he's nice deep down - but maybe not, after that, eh?**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! You all rockkk!!  
****Sisi…xx**


	10. Le Diable

I stayed up all night contemplating my options and I realise now, this is fate telling me what I've always known: I wasn't supposed to fall in love, my destiny was to be alone from cradle to grave. I'm a killer, I always will be… and I've got a job to finish.

Jonny is much harder to find than Mitch. He keeps himself so safe and secure with his technology. Finding him is almost impossible! According to my tracking devises he was in Sweden yesterday, today he's in New Orleans, tomorrow it'll probably be Kenya or something. But I will find him! This isn't just about revenge anymore. This is about Howard too.

I have to keep it simple, think about all the things I know about Jonny.

He's American… he's…? That's it. That's all I know about my ex-(so called) friend. But I guess we weren't friends, we were more like colleagues, no players. We were followers of 'the game'. It drew us both in, equally, although we're nothing alike. It lured us in with promises of greatness and delivering only mindless slaughter and heartless lies. It causes pain and yet you can't leave or stop playing (like Jumanji, you keep playing till you die). Even when I had everything… I still needed more.

There must be something else I know about Jonny, think, think. Wait - that's it. The cabin!

--

'The Cabin' is actually a shed. It's hidden in the depths of a forest near where Ricky and I used to beg when we lived on the street. That was before we got smart; that was before we got guns. The cabin is where Ricky has come up with every plan he's ever had. We knew no one would find us there, it was our safe house. Maybe, just maybe there's a clue there.

I find the cabin pretty easily. It looks smaller and more over grown than I remember, but it's still there, tall and proud. I push the door and it creaks open. The smell of damp wood, mouldy food and forgotten memories waft over me. It's disgusting. I feel sick. I take one final gulp of fresh air and go inside.

The smell is worse in here and there is nothing of any use, an old table, a few pieces of paper, a broken gun, a… wait, what's that? Sticking out from below a table leg is a folded postcard (we used to use it to stop the table wobbling) and on it is a picture of the American flag. I bend down and pull it out, careful not to rip it. I open it. It's not a particularly interesting postcard, from Jonny's parents. It said they were _so_ proud of their lawyer son. If only they knew the truth! I look at the address. I guess it's a long shot to hope that Jonny still lives at this address. People like us move round all the time, but as I have no other leads this long shot is all I've got.

--

The address takes me to a huge house, way out in the countryside. It has huge iron gates, security camera's and electric fences. At least that's positive, if someone didn't have something to hide they wouldn't have all this security and Jonny was always a little paranoid. It does, however, mean that I'm going to have to find a way in. Maybe I could… no. What if I? No. Hang on. Ahhh, perfect.

"Morning." I call cheerily. My 'way in' looks up.

"Good morning sir." he smiles, shifting his big red satchel full of letters from one shoulder to the other.

"Have you got any letters for this house?"

"Ummm, yes. Do you live here?"

"Yeah." I lie.

"Oh, okay then," he smiles, handing over the post before peering through the gates and up at the mansion-like house. "Pretty nice pad you got there."

"Thanks." I say.

"Oh and is that your car?" he asks excitedly, pointing at a green Porsche on the drive.

"It used to be." I answer truthfully. It had been mine. Ricky gave it to me after a job we did together in Soho. It's even still got my number plate, 'K1 DER' but I guess Jonny's his golden boy now. Oh well, not for long, eh?

"Used to be?" asks the postman.

"Haven't you got somewhere else to be?" I snap suddenly, I'm bored of him now and my hand twitches, with the urge to pull out my gun. But I can't shoot him, if Jonny hears the gunshot he'll know I'm coming for him, so, my fingers relax, and he looks a little scared so, I put on my Vince-like personality.

"It's just that, you know, I need to get inside, listen to some Gary Numan, get ready for the big party. It's gonna be genius! And the longer I spend here the later I'll be for the party and if I'm _too_ late for a party… well, people have been known to riot"

"Oh right." laughs the postman, relaxing "I'll see you around then."

"Bye!" I call as he disappears down the street. I guess being Vince does come in useful sometimes, and it did lead me to Howard. Howard. God I miss him. I didn't think it was possible to feel so lost without someone but if I want him back I need to concentrate. I look down at the letters in my hand and, calmly as ever, I stroll up to the gate and press the buzzer.

"'ello." came a French sounding voice.

"Erm, hello. I have a letter for this house and it's too big to fit in the letter box."

"Leave by gate. Thank you."

"I can't" I blurt.

"Why?" Think, think, think.

"It need's a signature." Phew.

"Fine. I come get letter. I sign, oui?"

"Oui, er, I mean yes."

"Okay, I open gate. You wait there."

The buzzer goes and I push the gate open, stepping just a few foot inside the grounds. I look up to see a rather short, rather large woman bulldozing down the path towards me.

"Bon Jour." she calls. "I take letter Mr Peterson is busy."

"Doing what?" I ask, placing my hand on the gun in my pocket. I can shoot her. It doesn't matter if Jonny hears me now. I'm already inside.

"Cluedo. He loves Cluedo."

"Cluedo?" I smirk. "It's the murdering he loves, is it?"

"No, of course not. Why would you say that? Mr Peterson, he is a good man. He never hurt anyone. Never."

"So naïve." I smile, pulling out the gun. Her eyes widened.

"Le Diable" she breaths.

"Non, je suis pas le Diable" I smirk "Mais, je vais tue toi."

"Non, Non." she stammers, starting to walk backwards

"Au revoir" I smirk. A gun shot rings out and she falls to the floor. I step over her, walking slowly towards the house. The door is left on the latch so I stroll into the big entrance hall, slamming it behind me. I like to make an entrance.

"Sabine? Is that you?" calls Jonny from a room to the right of me. "Are you okay? I thought I heard a loud band." I walked in the direction of Jonny's voice. "Sabine?" he continues "Sabine?"

I flung open the door.

"Elle est morte." I grin.

"Kid? I th-thought you were dead." Jonny stammers. He's sat behind a table, a Cluedo bored laid out in front of him. So Sabine wasn't joking. He looks a little nervous, but it's nothing compared to the fear that was in Mitch and Sabine's eyes. He's so cold.

"Yeah, I've been getting that a lot recently." I chuckle.

"Ricky said he killed you."

"He lied."

"I heard the gunshot."

"He shot at the wall."

"Why did he spare you?" Jonny frowns.

"Cluedo." I smile, looking at the game.

"He spared you because of Cluedo?"

"I'll play."

"What are you talking about?" he snarls

"Cluedo, you can't play on your own and you seem to be short of a player."

"I wouldn't be short if you hadn't shot her."

"Why Cluedo?" I asked sitting down opposite Jonny.

"Why Howard?"

I blush "Don't bring him into it?" I spit.

"Aw Kid. You know you should never fall in love."

"Shut up."

"And with a bloke? I never had you down as a queer Kid?"

"Shut up!" I scream. I point my gun at his head, he doesn't flinch.

"And _that _is why you can't live this lifestyle when you're in love. You're too sensitive."

"I'm not."

"Hmm, why you here Kid? You gonna kill me?""Only if you lose the game."

"What game?"

"This game." I say, indicating Cluedo.

"Cluedo? You're mad."

"maybe."

"So if I win, I walk free, if I lose I die."

"Yeah."

"And what if I refuse to play."

"I shoot you now."

"Looks like I have no choice then. Pass me the dice."

--

Half an our later, Jonny lands in the ballroom and picks up the three cards in the middle of the bored.

"I accuse Prof. Plum, in the ballroom with the lead piping." He says turning over the corresponding card. "I never lose this game." he grins, looking up and finding my gun right in his face. "B-but you said." he murmurs, he looks a little scared now.

"I lied." I smirk.

"B-but…"

"Bye Jonny."

**--**

It took me ages to get home, even in my new Porsche, but now I wish it had taken longer. As I tried to open the door it got stuck on a small box that had been pushed through the letter box. I picked it up. There was a damp, dark red stain in the corner, which was growing slowly. I shuddered. Blood.

The box had a note attached, written in Ricky's scrawly writing. I didn't dare read it. I just put the box on the table and stared at it from the other side of the room. I'm still staring at it, the note lying, unread, next to it. I can't read it. I don't want to know what Ricky's done this time. I don't want to know what's in the box. The dark red stain is growing bigger and bigger and I feel sick watching it.

Finally, it's gets too much. I stand up and walk slowly to the note and pick it up.

_Stop killing my men, Kid.  
__I hate replacing people.  
__And it's so hard to keep  
__track. I've having to use  
__my fingers… well, not  
__mine - Howard's._

_Ricky_

I look at the box. Finger? Howard's? I feel sick, I feel… I feel… Oh Howard, I'm so sorry.

* * *

**Sorry it's been so long. Next chapter will probably be up tomorrow as a sort of weak apology!**

**Thanks for reading,  
****Sisi…xx**


	11. Heads or Tails?

I can't wait any longer. I'm going to Ricky's. I know where he is. It'll take me a while to get there but I don't care. I'm going fast, I'm setting off every speed camera as I go. It's dark and the stars are hidden by the clouds. It's quiet, apart from the sound of my engine. All I can think about is Howard, getting to him, saving him - seeing him again.

I slam the breaks on and screech to a halt outside the front door of a small bungalow. Ricky never had any money to speak of. He gave it all to Jonny, who had always claimed that he needed it for 'equipment', but after seeing his house it was quite clear where that money had gone. Ricky was only in the game for the danger. He never needed anything else to keep him satisfied. He was born and raised on the streets and any kind of roof over his head felt like a mansion to him.

I get out of the car and slam the door. There's no point being quiet, Ricky probably already knows I'm here. The front door opens before I've even stepped foot on the path and Ricky stands there, expressionless. He is standing slightly to this side and beckons me in, silently. I walk past him, my hands buried deep in my pocket, just checking the gun is still there. I'm ready if Ricky tries anything funny. He shows me into the largest room, it's empty except for a small sofa, an arm chair and a bookcase in the corner.

"Sit down." Ricky orders from the doorway. I do as he says, perching uncomfortably on the arm chair. "You know," he continues "I'm surprised it took you so long to come here, I thought you'd have come here first. I didn't anticipate you killing Mitch."

"Well, I've always liked to do things a little differently." I snarl

"Don't try and me smart with me, Kid." he sighs, flopping down on the sofa and lying back. He's so relaxed, so calm, so cold.

"Why d'you do it Kid?"

"I wanted to teach you a lesson."

"You sound like a child."

"Well I am a Kid."

"You were never_ a_ Kid, you were _the_ Kid."

"I still am." I snap.

"Oh, is that what this is about? You're trying to prove you're still the Kid."

"I'm not trying to prove anything." I insist. Ricky looks at me knowingly and we fall silent. Him, looking at the ceiling, playing idly with a piece of string from his jacket.

Me, staring at him, twiddling my thumbs nervously, looking around for anywhere Howard could be hidden.

"You wanna see him?" he asks suddenly.

"I want him back." I answer.

"That's not what I asked." he sneers.

"Yeah," I sigh "I wanna see him."

He sighs loudly, heaves himself up and walks towards the door.

"Don't move." he warns, turning back to me before leaving the room. I jump up and pull out my gun, pointing it towards the door. As soon as Ricky comes through the door, I'm gonna shoot him, then grab Howard and run away. Never look back.

I can hear footsteps outside the room. Closer, closer. Ok Kid, don't gasp, no matter how awful he looks, no matter how beat up, don't let Ricky see how much it affects you. It'll only make things worse. The footsteps are right outside the door now, they stop. I still can't see him.

"Drop the gun Kid." comes Ricky voice, calm as ever. I don't and after a while he says "I don't hear the gun hitting the floor Kid." I still hold it, pointing it at the doorway. "Okay," he says eventually, "Lets try this another way, either, you drop the gun or I put a bullet in Howard's head and he never see's you again." I drop the gun immediately. It clatters to the floor and I hear Ricky snigger. "So easy." Before appearing around the door dragging Howard behind him.

I gasp, I can't help myself. He's gagged and his left hand is bandaged heavily. He's got a black eye, several cuts across his cheek and his shirt collar is covered with dry blood. He looks tired too, weary. He can hardly stand by himself, but Ricky holds him up by his jacket."Howard." I breath, my hand reaching out instinctively.

"Hold in there." snaps Ricky, and suddenly his gun is pointing at me. I glare at him and he smirks back at me saying "Let's play a game."

"What?"

"A game, you like playing don't you Kid."

"No."

"But you wanted to play when you killed Mitch and Jonny." he says, pointing his gun back at Howard.

"H-how did you know that?" I stammer, losing my nerve a little.

"I know everything," he replies coolly, dragging his gun down Howard's face and resting it under his neck. He's trembling and seeing Howard like this scares me much more than having the gun pointed in my own face. "Anyway," he continues "that's your style. You toy with your victims. You play with them, you leave their destiny up to luck. So…" he fumbles in his pocket "Howard's going to flip this coin, heads he dies. Tails, you die. That seems fair to me."

"Don't you dare!" I spit.

"I hardly think you're in the position to be making threats." he snarls, pressing the coin into Howard's uninjured palm. "Flip it." he says, ramming the gun further into Howard's neck, who shakes his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "Flip it." Ricky yells, hitting him with the gun.

"Stop!" I shout, stepping towards Ricky and immediately the gun is facing me again. Howard squeaks through his gag.

"Love's a horrible thing," Ricky sneers "It makes you _so_ weak. Now, Howard, you flip that coin, or I'll shoot him."

Howard nods, tears rolling down his cheeks. He's shaking furiously but manages to flip the coin into the air before allowing the coin to fall to the floor… heads. Howard.

Within seconds Ricky has his gun jammed against Howard's temple, his finger on the trigger.

"No," I scream "Take me!"

"Very noble." smirks Ricky.

"I mean it. He shouldn't even be here. It's all my fault. He should never have got involved in any of this."

"I agree, but it's done now. Say goodbye Kid."

I shake my head, I can't speak.

"I promised I wouldn't kill him until you said goodbye. Now say it."

I shake my head again, I can feel tears building up behind my eyes but I'm not letting them fall.

"Look, I'm going to kill him whether you say it or not, so, you may as well say goodbye. You know you'll regret it if you don't."

I swallow hard. "Goodbye Howard." I whisper.

"And…" Ricky drawls.

"and what?" I ask. I'm confused now.

"I'm holding a gun to his head, tell him you love him."

I stay silent.

"I'm about to kill him, Kid and you still wont say it. Well, Howard… how d'you feel about that, eh? You're about to die because you gave up everything for a man who can't even say he loves you." Howard's crying, he can't even look at me. He's got his eyes closed, his head back and the gun pressing against his Adam's apple.

"Ricky," I whisper "Please, kill me. Leave Howard alone. Please." I'm begging. I sound pathetic, but I can't bear to see Howard get shot and it's clear he hates me and if he hates me… well, I've got nothing to live for. I may as well me dead. Ricky considers me for a moment and slowly removes the gun from under Howard's chin and points it at me. "Fine. I guess you've had a good run Kid." he murmurs cocking the gun. I close my eyes. "But all good things come to an end."

**BANG**

The gunshot rings in my ears, but I'm not hurt. Oh no. Howard. I open my eyes to see the limp form on the floor but it's not Howard, he's stood up near by. He's shaking furiously and weeping loudly but he's alive. For a moment, I'm confused, then, my eyes rest on the bleeding body of Ricky on the floor. He's clutching at his stomach, his blood stained t-shirt sticking to him as he gasps for breath.

"Ricky." I shout, kneeling next to him. I don't know why. I should be running but I can't. Ricky was like a brother to me. I can't let him die alone. I take one of his blood covered hands and hold it close to me.

"Why the hell did you do that?" I ask, my voice is strained, and comes out as a hoarse whisper.

"I can't do this anymore, Kid." he rasps, coughing up blood. "I've grown attached."

"That doesn't mean you had to kill yourself."

"Well, I couldn't kill you. I just couldn't bring myself to do it, so it was either me or him." he nods painfully at Howard, who was pulling his gag down around his neck. "I just want you to be happy and I know you love him."

"Well, I… I" I falter."He loves you." Ricky wheezes to Howard.

"I know." Howard smiles. Ricky smiles back weakly, then winces and cries

"Argh! Jesus! This hurts!"

"Shhh," I try and sooth him by squeezing his hand.

"I'm sorry Kid."

"Hey, you said only fools and clumsy people apologize."

"I also said that I found you on the streets, when I didn't. I do lie Kid."

"W-what?" I stammer. "Where did you find me then?"

"I didn't. I kidnapped you from a posh family in a park. I asked for " He grimaces. "ransom money but it never came, because the day I kidnapped you, your parents were killed in a fire."

"What?" I ask, I feel numb. Everything I've ever known is being demolished by a few rasping words from a dying man's mouth. I'd always believed my parents had abandoned me. I thought they hated me. I thought Ricky had been my saviour. But I was wrong, so, so wrong.

"Listen," Ricky gasps, he's very pale now and his actions are jerky and irregular. He grabs my shirt and pulls me towards him so that our faces are inches apart. "Your parents were rich, very rich." He says, his words are so quiet I can barely hear him. "They left all their money to you in their will. Just go to a bank, tell them your name. You're worth millions."

"But what is my name?"

Suddenly, he's kissing me. And, to my surprise, I'm kissing him back. He tastes of blood and I don't want to do this but I can't stop, he's dying. It would be wrong. Howard's turned away from us, he doesn't seem angry. He just doesn't want to see it. Then, Ricky pulls away and collapses to the floor.

"Sorry," he pants "I've wanted that forever." I just look at him, the confusion must be apparent on my face. He gives me a strained smile and says "Your name is L-"

**BANG**

"Ricky!" I gasp, as a pool of blood gathers at the new gunshot-hole in his head. The shadow of the man who shot him, falls over us.

"You're not getting your hands on that money Kid!" says the shadow's voice. I look up.

"Roger? But your dead!"

"You never heard of a bullet proof vest?"

"Well, yeah but…"

"All you need to know is that I know your name and I'm going to get your money."

"But you can't."

"Can't I?" he smirks. "You're so stupid Kid. I've been planning this since before I met you. Who d'you think burnt down your house? 'The Millionaire Kid', they called you in the papers.It was easy to plan everything, Ricky's so weak. All I had to do was threaten to kill you and he told me everything I needed to know, did everything I asked him too. Except." he says, waving his gun at Howard "Oh well, I guess I'll have to finish the job." He shoots. Howard falls to the floor. I scream.

I dive to Howard's side. I'm crying uncontrollably, my face buried in his chest. Please don't be dead, please don't be dead. I can't live without him. I, I…

"Why?" I weep. "What's he done to you?"

"Nothing," Roger sneers, "I just want you to suffer." And with that he stomps out of the room, leaving me covered in Ricky's blood, tears rolling down my cheeks, sobbing into Howard's shirt. I can't breathe. I feel sick, my whole body is weak. My throat aches from screaming, my head hurts from crying.

"Please," I beg, "Please Howard, wake-up. Come on Howard. Please. Howard, Howard, I can't live without you. I-I need you, I'd give up anything for you.  
I, I… I love you"

* * *

**Please don't hurt me :D**

**I promised you a quick update. Hopefully, you'll all forgive me for leaving the previous update for so long.**

**Love ya all  
****Sisi…xx**


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